ATTENTION.
English is not my first language. There may be spelling errors.
Characters: Connor/Rk800, Hank Anderson, Sumo.
Everyone finds a home, no matter how long they've been wandering, who they are, or who their surroundings are. And home isn't always four walls with a full interior. Sometimes it's people, animals, places with an open view...
***
The news poured in one after another. Correspondents continued to update us on the deviants' leader's negotiations with the president, the enactment of new laws to benefit the new "caste," people's reactions to the events, and predictions about how soon everyone would get used to the new regime.
These past couple of weeks have seen enough to shake people accustomed to a measured life: mass deaths, android attacks on their masters, civil war...
This state will need much more than promised to recover. But looking at the results, it seemed the sacrifices had not been in vain.
"Connor?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?" He mutes the news on the terminal and turns to the man who has approached the table.
"Um, how can I ask you this?"
"You can ask me any question, I'll answer it," assured the android, who had once become a deviant but hadn't lost his usual, established rules of behavior, manner of speech, and morality.
"It's more of a suggestion than a question, but a question as an introduction would be very appropriate." The seasoned police officer, detective, and mentor all rolled into one cast a thoughtful, almost awkward glance at his watch. Many were already getting ready to go home, and Hank Anderson was no exception, unless he was being rudely assigned a shift or dragged out of the house in the middle of the night. "My God, I'm hesitating like I'm about to confess to a girl. A grown man..." Anderson muttered, rubbing his temples, clearly worn out from the day.
Connor blinked and waited for the necessary instructions, not moving from the spot where he intended to go into "sleep" mode until the next workday.
"I'll tell you straight: if you want, you can spend the night at my place. Or whatever you androids and deviants do to relax. I wanted to offer it earlier, but you keep showing up at my place, and then the chance to say anything disappears. And it seems wrong to leave you here now, with the new laws." The last part was said more as a joke, but Connor tried to appreciate it, letting out something akin to the chuckle and smile he'd observed in people and memorized, matching words with reactions. His programming had already been programmed with a lot, and given that, he knew and understood human psychosomatics, but sometimes understanding wasn't enough.
"If you're offering, I have no right to refuse."
"Then get ready and let's go. Maybe you should take Sumo for a walk." Hank cleared his throat into his fist, shaking off the last of his awkwardness and was about to turn his back on the deviant when his boss immediately called out:
"Anderson! Stay, please."
"Oh, my God! The law to end the excessive exploitation of androids has been passed, but when will the law to end the slavery of humans be passed?!" The policeman shrugged, but not in the mood for further discussion, he walked toward the office. "Go home, the keys are under the mat. God knows how long our 'Mr. Important' will keep me.
"I can wait for you."
"Go ahead, I said."
Connor has no choice but to nod, wish Hank luck, and turn his attention to his desk, where everything is laid out painfully perfectly (unlike the lieutenant's desk, where everything was scattered to the point of chaos, which he later called "creative," just to keep it from getting to him), without a single gap or mistake. To complete the picture of the "workday over," he switches the terminal to rest mode and stands up, straightening his tie, and then his jacket.
***
Connor heard the dog's bark and the leisurely tapping of claws on the floor even before he reached for his keys and awkwardly inserted them into the lock. In the short time he'd been working with Anderson, the android had only now shown up at his house while he was gone, unlocked it with a trusted key, and realized that the house was temporarily under its care. It was strange to realize and comprehend everything that had been so carefully installed by its creator. A home?
Could he call this place home? Or was it too soon for such bright words? He'd better ask Hank himself when he got back.
As soon as the door opened, Sumo barked joyfully and threw himself into the arms of the android, who was clearly not a stranger, nearly knocking him over with his own weight and, it seemed, his complete unawareness.
"Sumo! Sumo, wait, we're both going to fall." The LED blinked yellow, and instead of a software glitch, he felt something new, fluttering, more like joy. Yes, it was joy. He was glad to see Sumo, and glad to know the dog considered him someone who could enter his personal space without the risk of a heavy paw to the face. "Sumo, please, let me in." Connor, unaware of the smile playing on his face, somehow drags the dog inside, closing the door behind him. The St. Bernard awkwardly spins around, stands on all fours, and wags its tail, barking lazily and softly.
"Lieutenant, well, Hank," Connor corrected himself, unsure if the dog was aware of his master's other nickname. "He'll be here soon. So, let me feed you if you haven't eaten, and let's go for a walk." He had never resorted to such basic, everyday tasks before, but with each software glitch, he found them increasingly interesting and humane. Sometimes the android would see his domesticated brethren walking pets and performing their assigned tasks, as required by their "resumes," and he could only cock his head slightly, betraying curiosity in front of his senior partner.
"Never walked dogs before?"
"That's not part of my job description. I'm an android detective, and..."
"I get it! Let's not lecture you?" But a thoughtful look flickered across Hank's face. Connor would have described it more as someone who'd thought of something the android wouldn't guess.
Sumo walked into the kitchen, his tail still wagging, and Connor calmly followed, his eyes scanning the room for anything resembling a leash. Publicly available information indicated that any pet, to prevent escape or injury, is usually walked on a harness or leash.
After pouring out some food, the android tenderly, now without fear, stroked Sumo's head and, with a light, encouraging pat, rose from his knees. He needed to find something to walk the dog on. And so, Connor was forced to wander through other rooms, feeling a sense of unease as he entered what he assumed were his private ones.
What he needed was found in the bedroom, and the leash, matching the collar, was the same color—bright blue.
Thinking for a moment, Connor hears the sound of approaching claws. "You're quick," but instead of the usual calm and lazy demeanor, the android sees a nervousness unexpressed by canine anatomy: Sumo butts him in the side with her head, whining pitifully, as if rushing him, unsure where to stand. "What...?" The words remain unspoken, and in their place, several empty software windows appear before his eyes, assaulting his consciousness with relentless ruthlessness. A software glitch. A familiar phenomenon, but each time it causes such pain and confusion, especially after a deviation, that an android shouldn't feel. The LED blinks yellow, his fake lungs begin to work at an accelerated rate, his legs finally give out, and he falls, held steady by the St. Bernard, who sensed something was wrong.
The last thing Connor feels before entering rest mode is Sumo trying to lie under his body, awkwardly pushing his paw, and finally coming to terms with what has happened.
***
"Connor! Connor, son, wake up!"
The LED blinks frantically red, then yellow again, and finally the standard blue, when awakening is successful and the lieutenant's silhouette, not quite clearly visible, flickers before his eyes, besides the ceiling.
"Oh, thank goodness, you scared me..." Connor tries to blink, regaining a clear view, and after a couple of such persistent blinks, everything returns to its original state. Hank in front of him is erratic, worried, and only just gaining calm from the fact that the android is conscious.
"What happened to you?" a reasonable question followed as soon as Connor tried to prop himself up on his elbows. Turning his head, he realized that the agitated Sumo had been his pillow all this time. Now, the agitated Sumo had jumped up and started licking his face, preventing him from answering.
"I'm...fine," he said, holding out his hand to respond proportionately. Then, no longer seeing the point in defending himself from this seemingly harmless "attack," he allowed Sumo to continue, hoping it would calm the dog down.
"Well, Sumo doesn't think so. His whining could be heard through the door, even through the street."
"Sorry, Sumo, for making you worry. Sorry, Lieutenant."
"For the first time, it's not me who's found lying on the floor, but someone else." The tension eased almost immediately, and Connor had no choice but to smile awkwardly. "Consider yourself a rite of passage into the household."
"Household?"
"Well, yes. That's what they usually call people who live in the same house. You can consider this place your home. If you want, of course, I don't mind." Anderson couldn't deny that after all they'd been through together, Connor had become noticeably closer to him. To those who wanted to offer a helping hand whenever possible.
And yet, Connor could call this place his home. There was something distinctly new in this realization. Too new to process right away, especially in this state.
